The roared thundering salt-white salt-flung wall
Foams, wells, forms fermenting froth fiercely sprung
From forced fractured under-swell’s spun
Force slammed, slung; spreads in a burst bubbled shawl
Of soft relief sighing in a sunlit run,
Hisses in a struggled sprawl strung
As softened threads on the sea-shore’s smooth tongue
In a whispered haul of faint breathed sussuration
Washing on the firm-fleshed sucking sand:
A gull calls, wheels, shrills, spills and dwells, mills
In a high melee, chases, races, flares in to land
As a breeze blows, crows, tucks the hands of flags
Flapping in restless flailing strops
Atop blind poles lopped; time itself stops
In a gathered instant as meaning drags
A long stretch writ across the day’s full cry.
I sigh …
Feb 2000
